


Incompletion

by thetravelinglemon100



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, River Song spoilers I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetravelinglemon100/pseuds/thetravelinglemon100
Summary: Sometimes it was enough, this life. Sometimes the books and the children and the friends kept her distracted long enough that she didn’t think about what she’d lost. But sometimes – like today – there was an empty, gaping hole inside of her.On days like today, she hated him.
Kudos: 5





	Incompletion

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by 'What About Us?' by P!nk, and the thought that, while River is very understanding about the Doctor's faults and failures, she may not always be quite so charitable. I don't think many of us would be, were we in her shoes.

She was in a bad mood.

River knew that because she’d been so restless she’d left the house before the children were even up in the morning; she couldn’t cope with them today.

As she walked, her mind brushed against the pages of one book after another but, one after another, she shut them all in annoyance. _Not today_.

Time and distance meant nothing here, but if they did, she would have walked miles before she stopped, fists clenched, at the coastline. River stared out at the water crashing against the rocky shoreline and clenched her fists tighter.

Sometimes it was enough, this life. Sometimes the books and the children and the friends kept her distracted long enough that she didn’t think about what she’d lost. But sometimes – like today – there was an empty, gaping hole inside of her.

On days like today, she _hated_ him.

She hated what he’d made her into; that he hadn’t given her the choice – that he hadn’t let her _rest_. That he’d made her _like this_ and then just left her behind like he used to leave used mugs round the TARDIS.

River knew he hated looking back – hated facing the times he’d failed – but she also knew how many people that left abandoned and alone, wondering what they’d done that was so bad they didn’t even warrant a _visit_.

She knew she should be thankful for the time she’d had – and she was – but on days like this she felt like raging at him, at the _universe_.

**_What about us?_ **

_We who didn’t get our happy endings – who didn’t even get an ending._

**_What happens now?_ **

_All that running, and planning, and trusting and loving – to end up like this?_

**_Is this it? _ **

She picked up a rock and hurled it into the sea, enjoying the sound of the _sploosh_ as it hit the water and immediately sank, but still feeling distinctly dissatisfied.

Sometimes the anger made her want to give up; she knew that if she really wanted, Charlotte could help her go. The others wouldn’t want it, but they had no understanding of what had been torn from her when she’d been shoved in here.

Sometimes the anger made her want to escape and give the Doctor the ringing slap he deserved.

Today, she weighed up the two possibilities in her mind, considering first one, then the other, before sinking down onto the stones in resignation. _What did it matter?_ She couldn’t get out without help, and she’d never go – not while there was even a tiny chance of getting out, or the Doctor coming back.

She pulled a face, disgusted at herself for _pining_ , still, after all this time.

A sigh, deep and gut-wrenching.

River didn’t know how long she sat there, listening to the water crash against the rocks, before she got bored of wallowing in self-pity. Not that she hadn’t earned the right to, but moping wasn’t really her style, not when she could be _doing something_ instead ~~or at least trying~~.

In the same way as most things worked here, as soon as she found herself wanting something – there it was in the corner of her vision, sitting on a black rock as if it had been there the whole time. She reached for the familiar green notebook – simultaneously her most treasured and most hated possession – and began to flick through the pages to the last escape plan she’d been working on.

_River Song wasn’t beaten that easily._


End file.
